A Way to Live
by AintItStrange
Summary: God, Joanne revelled in this! This side of Maureen that craved attention from her and only her was what Joanne had been longing for ever since they first made love to each other. It wasn't often that she had the chance to have her way with Maureen for Maureen was not one to be controlled. Yet there were those few times when she felt brave enough to tame the tiger.
1. A Way to Live

-I'm merely a fan, I'm not the owner. This is for my own personal enjoyment and I hope you enjoy this too. Reviews are always welcome. Thank you.-

The wallpaper was peeling in the hallway. Half of the lights were busted. The elevator… well, the elevator shaft didn't even have an elevator in it. This was no way for a Jefferson to live, especially not the daughter of this Jefferson. And daughters of this Jefferson didn't take days off of work, either.

23… 24… Howard saw the light falling out of the cracked door of apartment 25.

_Careless. Joanne can't even close her damn door anymore._

"What the hell is that?" Howard's wife spat out.

Howard heard it too. A woman's moan and a steady creaking noise tangoed in the air around them. Howard gave a soft push on the wood and stood in the doorway of his daughter's New York apartment.

The first thing he saw was a knee-high black leather boot. The stiletto looked as if it had grown accustomed to being thrown into the yellowing aloe plant by the window. It's twin was not to be found, but a lace thong of the same color was on top of the tilted lamp shade.

There it was again. The moan. It certainly did not belong to Joanne Jefferson and it certainly turned Howard Jefferson into a cautious man.

Ready to strike at the intruder, Howard stepped in front of his wife and came face to face with every secret of his daughter's life in one moment.

"Oh, _shit!_ Oh, fuck! Baby, don't stop! Oh! Oh!"

This woman moaning her tits out was certainly not Joanne Jefferson.

But the woman sucking on her tit was.

Joanne had her hand between Maureen's legs and Maureen had nothing to grab onto except for Joanne's thick, brown hair. Every time Joanne humped against Maureen and thrust her hand into her, Maureen's body clenched and screamed and shook the entire apartment complex.

Joanne moved her mouth to Maureen's neck and whispered into her ear, "Baby, c'mon. Baby, you gonna come for me. Baby, come for me," and she began moving her hips faster in time with her hand. Maureen was reduced to her most basic form of speech, a loud, animalistic string of words that would make a nun's ears bleed.

With an almighty "_Fffffuck!_" Maureen came. Her back arched, her head rolled, and her lips clenched Joanne's fingers tighter.

Howard and his wife stared in horror as their daughter's tongue licked and smeared the lipstick of the white girl laying beneath her.

"Baby," the white girl said between kisses. "Baby, I love you."

Joanne smiled down at her lover, "I love you too."

When Maureen began licking Joanne's fingers, Joanne moved back to her neck, murmuring sweet sounds to her lover, her honey bear, her sexy girl, her baby.

It took two steps for Howard's wife to get to the door and not a moment's thought was spent on preventing it from slamming behind her as she stormed down the dark hallway with half the lights busted and the wallpaper peeling.

Still standing there, Howard was fuming when Joanne and Maureen were snapped out of their post-love making bliss and locked eyes with him.

"Joanne," sounded like a death sentence when it was shoved from his tight, twisted mouth.

The stained, violet sheets did nothing to cover up Joanne Jefferson and the white girl when they futilely tried to hide what, to them, was pure.

"Dad? What the he—"

"Don't you ask me what I'm doing here. We're beyond that. I hear in the paper that you, a lawyer, are publicly protesting decisions _your father _made for the betterment of the public; I go to your office and find you've _taken a day off _and so I come here and you're— you're… _having sex with a white girl! _Do you have any idea how sick your mother and I are right now at what we just saw? Do you have any idea how much dedication we put into your Catholic learning, and here you are slapping us in the face with it!"

"Hey! Knock, knock!" the door behind Howard banged open and he wheeled around.

"We let ourselves in, love birds! Let's go get coffee!"

A man with long, blond hair and a black leather coat was standing in the doorway. Under his arm was a girl with hair too big and too long for her body. Their smiles fell at Howard's glare.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

Then the man noticed Joanne and Maureen naked, clutching the sheets, looking as if they had just shit themselves.

The laugh Roger let out roared through the tense air, "Ooh! Jo and Mo got busted by daddy!"

Mimi chuckled into his side as she watched the dumbfounded father turn back to Joanne and Maureen.

"Joanne, I don't know what the hell you're thinking. I don't know what the hell made you choose to live this— this bohemian lifestyle, but it will not last. Your mother and I will be back in three days. If you haven't gotten your shit together by then, say goodbye to your family," and with that, Howard turned on his heel, shoved past the man with the blond hair and the girl under his arm and followed in his wife's fashion out the door and down the hallway with half the lights busted and the wallpaper peeling.

The spare key landed on the violet sheets and Joanne and Maureen stared at it.

"C'mon, love birds. Stuff your asses and tits into some clothes and let's go get coffee."


	2. Ask Us If We Care

-I'm merely a fan, I'm not the owner. This is for my own personal enjoyment and I hope you enjoy this too. Reviews are always welcome. Thank you.-

Maureen loved when Joanne wanted to play aggressive. She loved all the places her hands roamed and the way they moved about her body, sexy and strong, dominating every crevice, every bit of palpable surface they could find. Nothing was slow, yet nothing was fast. It wasn't like a Sunday morning when they were fighting the cold by nuzzling each other's necks and settling into each other's warmth. It wasn't like it a quick lick in Joanne's office before she had to get back to work, either. This was one of the few times when Joanne was drunk as fuck and wanted to taste every bit of Maureen she could reach and it drove Maureen wild. The only thing she could do was respond with equal amounts of ferocity.

—

Mark was trying to push his way through the crowd of basic girls and meathead boyfriends at the club. He clutched his Heineken, desperate not to spill or drop it as it was his only means of rescue from the tensing air and pulsing bodies around him.

He struggled past the line of women in short skirts and low cut tops, having difficulty breaking his drunken gaze from the rack of a too young looking blonde. Stumbling into the empty men's bathroom, he unzipped his fly and leaned against the cool, ceramic wall.

—

Maureen had been pinned against the plastic walling of the stall and Joanne's teeth were tugging her lower lip. She pulled her lover closer and could feel her nipples pressed against her chest. Her tongue dipped into Joanne's mouth and she felt a warm hand slip under the waist of her jeans.

In the heat of her lover, Joanne let her fingers explore the most tender spots that elicited the most guttural moans and drew the most tension. She did not bother trying to muffle the sounds spilling from Maureen's lips with a kiss for she cared very little if a man walked in and heard them.

—

The glass shattered against the floor and Mark was pulled out of his stupor. As he watched the beer spread on the tile, an intense feeling of nausea ripped across of his stomach. Hastily stuffing himself back into his pants, he rushed into a stall behind him.

The vomit that was launched from his gut came with guilt at the fact that he had lost count of the number of drinks he had had. He knew he would change his mind in the morning and settle in embarrassment, but for now he would blame the beautiful girl who thought documentaries were the shit and who, baby, was too much of a wimp to do shots alone.

He stood and leaned against the plastic and spotted a familiar handwriting scrawled on the wall opposite him.

—

Hearing the cries that were spilling from her lover's mouth was almost enough to make Joanne come right then and there. As Maureen's hands dug through her dark curls, she sucked on her collar, leaving a small, red mark where she had been. The faster she moved, the tighter Maureen clenched her fingers, practically begging for more.

God, Joanne revelled in this! This side of Maureen that craved attention from her and only her was what Joanne had been longing for ever since they first made love to each other. It wasn't often that she had the chance to have her way with Maureen for Maureen was not one to be controlled. Yet there were those few times when she felt brave enough to tame the tiger. Now was one of those times.

Joanne kissed Maureen's red lips fiercely as she felt her come onto her hand. She took every one of her lover's moans into her mouth, tasting it, glorifying in it, loving it. Their tongues battled for dominance, competing for each other's pleasure. It nearly drove Joanne over the edge, but Maureen caught her and shoved her against the wall behind her.

"Baby, it's my turn now." Maureen's voice was a low, sexy drawl as she kissed her way down to Joanne's navel, lifting the hem of her tight dress as she went. It was her turn to be in command, now, and dammit, she was not going to be gentle just because she was in a men's bathroom at a club.

—

Even in his dizziness, Mark couldn't help but chuckle at the note left on the light blue stall. It was so like them, he thought, to mark their territory like so. Of course they would be proud of completing that act in a public place and of course they would love to announce it to whomever stumbled into this stall from now on. That was them. That was who they were and that was how in love with each other they were.

—

Among the lesbians of New York, Maureen's tongue had become something of a taboo, something too good to be true yet almost feared for how intoxicating she was. Never given a name to associate with, but talked about and idolized all the same. Only a select few knew the skill with which she moved and pleased whomever she decided to pursue.

It wasn't long before Joanne had lost all control and was breathing quickly and heavily. Fingers worked their way all over Joanne's body, pinching her nipples, squeezing her ass, and finally making their way up her thighs and into her warmth.

She was so close, Maureen knew. She moved her fingers in and out faster, sucking harder on her clit.

—

Mark flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth. He stood and steadied himself, preparing for having to shove his way back to the dance floor to find his friends.

The music pummeled his eardrums the second he opened the bathroom door and he had to regain his balance.

"Mark!" he vaguely heard over the roar of the club. "Marky, over here!"

A hand grabbed his wrist and he followed through the crowd in a daze.

"Pookie, you alright?" Maureen looked alive yet exhausted all at once. She loved the party, but it was late, the crowd had thinned, and he could tell she wanted nothing but to curl up in bed for the night.

"I saw what you wrote in the bathroom," Mark blurted out.

—

"You" Joanne murmured into Maureen's ear, "are the greatest fucking thing."

She began kissing her ear gently and Maureen giggled into her neck. "I love you," her honey bear said and all she could do was smile and bring her lips so close to Maureen's. Joanne closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the forehead of the woman in front of her. In her bliss, she heard her lover beg for her response and so she complied. She told her lover that they would never part, that they would always love each other despite the hell they put each other through. They kissed and touched and laughed in the empty bathroom. Regardless of the stinginess of the setting, it was their own romantic getaway for the night. Fuck it if someone were to walk in and reprimand them for fucking in the stall. It was their life and if they wanted to make love to each other, they could do it whenever and wherever they damn well pleased.

"Hold on a second," Maureen giggled as Joanne's hands once again began their ravenous assault on her body. She reached for her clutch, digging through it for something to write with.

"What?" Joanne murmured, placing sweet kisses on her pale skin.

"We gotta mark our territory." The cap of the red Sharpie proved almost too difficult for the intoxicated girl to remove, but she managed to bite it off, steadying herself against the wall. She couldn't help but laugh as the pen squeaked against the blue plastic. Joanne's hands finally settled on her waist and she could feel her breath on her neck.

"Oh my god. You're crazy," Joanne chuckled. The crude message was so perfectly descriptive of their ferocious lovemaking. She breathed in the scent of her honey bear, shaking her head at the way the marker stood out so blaringly against the rest of the graffiti on the wall. "It needs something," she said and she took the marker from her lover's fingers.

—

"You guys are the horniest people I've ever met." Mark had his elbows on the bar and he was trying tremendously to hold back all the vulgar comments he was churning up in his mind.

"What?" Maureen laughed, faking innocence as she gulped the remnants of her beer. The dance floor was emptying and the bar was nearly vacant. The bartender was chatting up some poor girl who looked to be completely hammered.

"'Maureen and Joanne fucked in this stall'? Really? C'mon, you could at least think of a better thing to say than that." Despite the lack of creativity from the otherwise witty performer, he had to admire the, for lack of a better term, balls the girls had for so blatantly admitting to their heated act of passion performed in the filthy men's bathroom of an already obscene nightclub.

"You forgot some of it," Joanne corrected him.

Mark dropped his head and smiled. "Yes, yes, 'And it was amazing.' How could I forget? Thanks for rubbing it in."

Joanne reached up and pinched the man's cheeks, "Aww! Poor baby! Couldn't get it in tonight?"

Amused, Marked pushed her hands away. "I'm glad it was amazing," he said and placed his empty bottle on the counter. "Seriously, though, you guys are fucking crazy. That's disgusting. That's a men's bathroom."

Maureen rolled her eyes and set her own finished drink down next to his. "Ask us if we care," she said and grabbed Joanne's wrist and turned for the door.


	3. It Had Been Sweet

-I'm merely a fan, I'm not the owner. This is for my own personal enjoyment and I hope you enjoy this too. Reviews are always welcome. Thank you.-

She tasted so sweet, and every time she moaned she sounded sweet too. But there was a kick to her taste, she had been told. It was if there was a fire burning deep within her, one that could only be fueled by a certain woman who was now giving her more attention than she could have ever dreamed of. Her hands dug deep into the woman's scalp and she had to break from her lustful thoughts just to make sure she didn't cause harm to the woman making love to her.

With every suck on her clit, she moaned a little deeper. With every twist of a finger, she clenched a little tighter. With every second that passed, she drew closer and closer to climax. She wanted to let out an unending stream of profanities, but that would require removing herself from her subconscious paradise and back to reality just to form useless words.

Another finger was pressed into her and her head rolled back and her eyes fluttered shut. This was it. This was the life, sprawled ass naked on their couch with Maureen's head between her thighs. If she could reach the liquor cabinet, she would grab a bottle of Chianti and uncork it right there and take a swig. Maureen was still on her fingers. She licked them and tasted her once more, that bold taste so unlike any she had ever tasted before and so delicious she could taste it every day for the rest of their lives and never grow tired of it. She lingered on the scent, wondering how someone so outrageous could have such a gentle touch to her.

Everything about Maureen had set Joanne aflame. They pissed each other off, scalded each other with angry insults and fought with such ferocity that the slightest detail could set them off. But when they made up it was done with even more heat than that. Burning desire encompassed every movement, every touch, every kiss. It was a wonder how they hadn't already fused into one being yet, but with the amount of devotion they had for each other, one could argue that they had already become one.

Joanne was nearing climax now. Her nipple was being twisted by a distant, delicate hand and she barely had any cognition of where the hell she was. Both hands moved harder and faster as a warm tongue drew moans deeper than before. Her back began to arch, her breast aching for more friction from her lover's hand. Her muscles squeezed tighter and tighter still on the fingers moving in her warmth and she was no longer able to relax herself as her warmth neared its peak.

She couldn't contain herself any longer and came with valiant force into her lover's lips. She gripped the edge of the couch as she cried out her lover's name into the cool air of the apartment.

Maureen sucked and licked all around her warmth, taking care to taste deep inside her. Her hands moved and touched all the crevices and angles on Joanne's body, squeezing some parts more firmly than others. Joanne pulled her up to her level and kissed her deeply and passionately, curling an arm around her waist as Maureen moved to straddle her.

This was their home. This was the way they made love to each other, so unaware of anything existing outside of their apartment. The only thing that could hold their attention was how warm they felt with their bodies pressed together. They kissed more deeply than ever before and Joanne lowered her lover to the fading cushions of the couch beneath them. She pulled back and examined the sight below her, the beauty of the silent girl laying so calmly and peacefully between her arms. It was so unlike her to be calm and peaceful, but that was Maureen. She was unpredictable.

She would weep when she had reason to be joyful. She would be gentle when she should've been rough. She would be spontaneous when she needed to be organized… well, she was always spontaneous and never really needed to be organized. But she was unpredictable nonetheless and that is exactly why Joanne was so in love with her.

Joanne craved to see Maureen was in this euphoric state. She was sure no one else had ever witnessed her like this and that prided her in knowing that Maureen had let down her guard only for her. Her fingertips cupped gracefully around a pale breast and she marveled in the perfection of Maureen's naked body. She placed a tender kiss on her lover's swollen, red lips, drawing the three words most unrivaled by anything else.

It had been sweet, their love making. Although it was lascivious, it was still somehow pure. Their desire was more than desire. The flamed that burned within them was not atop a tiny wick but scorching their world in a blazing sun of passion. Nothing could be held higher than the way which they made love to each other, and although a faceless man walked into their apartment holding a pistol, it would take more than bullets to break them apart.


End file.
